


White Snow, Black Heart

by likethenight



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Christmas, M/M, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 19:49:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likethenight/pseuds/likethenight
Summary: Remus and Sirius at Grimmauld Place at Christmas time, after the Order has reformed.





	White Snow, Black Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in December 2010, in a bit of a fit of HP-writing after I saw Deathly Hallows part 1. Took me a while to get it posted here...
> 
> There is a small call-back to another fic of mine, [_Snowy Morning_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17189195), in which Remus and Sirius exchange Christmas presents at Hogwarts in their sixth year.

A loud bang caught Remus Lupin's attention, and he excused himself from the family celebration in the kitchen of number 12 Grimmauld Place, hurrying upstairs towards the source of the noise. He had been feeling distinctly out of place among the Weasleys' joy, and really he welcomed the distraction.

He looked around as he reached the top of the stairs, and spotted Sirius in the room with the elaborate tapestry that showed the Black family tree, a wild, murderous look in his eyes. Remus' heart sank; every day there were more reminders that Sirius was not the man he had once been. Much as Remus wanted to pretend that nothing mattered except the fact that they were together again, he knew he couldn't completely deny to himself what he knew to be true. Azkaban had done things to Sirius that not even a lifetime of freedom could possibly hope to repair.

Remus hurried into the room, glancing apprehensively at the family tree. Little puffs of smoke still hung in the air in front of some of the portraits, but the pictures themselves were undamaged. 

"Can't do a thing with it," Sirius muttered. "Poisonous old hag must have put a ward on it. So she can blast me out of the picture, but I can't do the same to her. Bloody typical."

Remus approached him very slowly and tentatively. "Wouldn't it be easier not to come in here?" he asked, very gently.

"I'm sick of taking the easy way out," Sirius said, his voice heavy with bitterness. "I was showing it to Harry. Thought he might need to know what he's up against. Also thought he might like to know whose house this actually is. You know, so he knows that I'm doing _something_ to help him. I'm the only father he's got. Closest thing to one, anyway." 

Remus opened his mouth to point out that actually quite a few people had been doing their best to fill the gaps in Harry's life, but somehow he didn't have the heart. He had been quietly putting up with Sirius's selfishness, especially where Harry was concerned, reminding himself that Sirius had been through things that he himself could not imagine, even with his own extensive experience of nightmares made real.

"And he's the only son I'll ever have, so I think I'm bloody well entitled to help him," Sirius added, flashing Remus a look filled with frustrated resentment.

"I didn't say you weren't," Remus said mildly, reminding himself that the bitterness in Sirius's voice wasn't directed at him. It wasn't his fault he wasn't a woman, and Sirius had never held it against him before. When they were young, Sirius had always said that he'd rather die than propagate the Black family line. It had been Remus who had secretly wanted children and who had resigned himself to the painful knowledge that he could never have them.

"Besides, have you any idea what it's like being cooped up here all the time while you're all off doing things? I can't do a single damn thing to help the Order or my godson, and I'm stuck _here_ with this blighted sodding family tree and all the portraits of my poisonous bloody ancestors and my vicious old hag of a mother. I ran away to escape this place; isn't it just perfect bloody irony that now I've inherited it because I'm the only one left, and I can't bloody well leave?"

"Sirius," Remus said, gently but firmly. "I know. You know I do, and I'm _sorry_. But you know why you can't go out there, you're -"

"Mass-murderer Sirius Black, yes, I'm just ever so slightly aware of that fact. But really, Moony, have you any idea what this place is doing to me? I hardly even see you." Sirius dropped onto the sofa in the corner of the room, turning his eyes up to Remus with a look of frustrated despair. "You're never here, Moony. I miss you. I spent thirteen years missing you in Azkaban, I thought when I got out that maybe I wouldn't have to miss you so much any more."

Remus sighed and sat down next to Sirius. "I'm sorry, Padfoot. There's a lot to do." He gave Sirius a sheepish smile, acknowledging the understatement. "And I'm sorry that there's not a lot you can do to help. But please, can you just give it a rest, just for a little while? It's Christmas. And you know, I miss you too. I'd just like to spend a bit of time with you, and try and forget that we even have to have this conversation." He sighed again. "I'm _tired_ , Sirius."

Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but then thought better of it. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm just…well, yes. You know." He looked at his feet for a moment, and then back up at Remus. "I haven't got you anything. Haven't really had the opportunity to go shopping." He shrugged. "Didn't want Kreacher doing any of that for me either. Specially not when it came to you. He'd have come back with something tasteless in silver, just to spite me."

"It's all right," Remus soothed. "I haven't had much chance to find anything for you, either. You're rather hard to buy for these days."

Sirius laughed, a short, humourless bark. "Look at us. Honestly, Moony, just look at us. Never thought we'd come to this, did we?"

Remus smiled sadly. "We had no idea. No idea at all. But here we are. This is what we have, and at least we're together. It's a start, isn't it?"

"It's not what I wanted," Sirius said, mulishly. "We were going to be _so_ amazing. You and me, the best Aurors in the business. You'd have been Minister for Magic by now and I'd have been your desperately dashing right-hand man." He smiled at Remus, a faint echo of his old, devastating smile, and for a moment Remus saw the old Sirius, the one he'd fallen so hopelessly in love with, back when they were still just boys at school.

"Don't kid yourself," he said with an affectionate smile. "You'd have been Minister. Or a rock star. And I'd have been your dedicated assistant, who always made sure everything ran smoothly."

"We were going to be the dream team," Sirius said, reaching out to cover Remus's hand with his own. "And instead we just turned into everyone's worst nightmares, and our own, too." He shook his head, smiling ruefully. "Remember that Christmas back in Hogwarts, when we were sixth years? Just you and me in the common room, before everyone else woke up." 

"I remember," Remus said. "I still have that journal you gave me. I filled it up." He pulled a face. "Although you probably wouldn't want to read the last entries."

Sirius grimaced. "I'm sure. I put you through a lot, after all. I never meant to."

"I know. It wasn't your fault, you know I know that."

"I do." Sirius squeezed Remus's hand, smiling distantly. "I kept that little dragon of yours in my pocket. Went with me everywhere. I wish I knew what had happened to it."

"I've got it," Remus said, and Sirius stared at him in disbelief. "Dumbledore gave it to me. Somehow he managed to get hold of your things, after you were sent to Azkaban. Merlin only knows how he knew it would mean something to me. I kept it at the bottom of my trunk for years. Couldn't look at it, couldn't throw it away." He gave Sirius a tentative smile. "Do you want it back?"

Sirius smiled back, more than just an echo this time, and Remus's heart turned over. "More than almost anything, Moony," he said. "My pocket's been feeling empty for years."

"I'll go and get it," Remus said, beginning to get up, but Sirius tugged on his hand and made him sit down again.

"Not yet," he said. "Let's just stay here for a moment." He slid his arm around Remus's shoulders, and very slowly Remus relaxed into his embrace, leaning his head on Sirius's shoulder and slipping his arms around his waist. "Let's just stay here, while all the others are doing their own things. Just us, Moony. Just you and me again."

Remus sighed and curled a little closer, and when he felt Sirius's lips in his hair he smiled, just a little bit, feeling some of the tension and strain of the past months receding just a little. It would be back, he knew, but for now he could let it go.

"Look, Moony," Sirius murmured, a while later, lifting the hand he had been smoothing over Remus's hair and pointing at the window. "It's snowing."

Remus turned his head to look, realising that Sirius was right. Snow was falling thickly over the street outside, and for a moment he could almost pretend to himself that they were back at Hogwarts again, carefree sixth-years with no idea of what the future held for them. It was hard to look back on what they had lost, all the things they had never had, without regretting bitterly the way that things had turned out; but they had been given another chance, imperfect as it was, shattered and broken as they were, and perhaps, Remus thought to himself, perhaps that could be enough.


End file.
